


crush(ed)

by thisissirius



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Protective Maddie Buckley, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “My parents are coming,” Buck blurts out, wincing.They haven’t talked about them yet; Buck knows she’s inferred some stuff, suspected others, but Buck’s never outright talked about them. “That scares you?”“Yes,” Buck says.general spoilers for season 4
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 734
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	crush(ed)

**Author's Note:**

> buck deserves good things.
> 
> i hope you appreciate how hard it is to get into buck’s head instead of eddie’s ;_; they are so very very different
> 
> help

It’s not something Buck chooses to hide, but it becomes easier when he finds a private therapist who seems content to take him on. She doesn’t even bat an eye when he tells her he’ll change his times from week to week depending on shifts. She has no ties to the LAFD and tells Buck it’s up to him whether or not he informs his work place.

 _I should_ , Buck thinks instantly. Then, breathing out slowly, he tells himself, _no_.

This is something he wants to keep to himself, for as long as he can.

It’s not until Buck sees Eddie that he almost caves. They promised each other they’d do better at communication after the lawsuit—and Buck can’t think about it without wincing—but this feels different. He doesn’t have to tell Eddie if he doesn’t want to, that’s the first thing Dr. Copeland tells him.

“You don’t even know him,” Buck points out.

“I don’t have to, Evan.” Buck likes the way she says his name. He doesn’t hear it often, not even from Maddie, and it makes him take everything she says seriously—people use his name when it’s important. “The choices here are all yours.”

Buck nods, knows his breathing sounds shaky, but doesn’t care. “Part of me wants to tell him. He’s my best friend. He’s—but I know he’s busy with Chris and he doesn’t need this.”

Dr. Copeland nods. “Do you see yourself as a burden?”

“No,” Buck says immediately. Then, “yes.”

Loneliness takes him by surprise.

With Abby, he’s sure he’s found something real, something solid. He isn’t joking when he tells Bobby he thinks he might be a sex addict, but he’s also not telling the whole truth. When he’s having sex with someone, when someone’s with him, the loneliness feels further away. Buck wants to be loved. It’s something his parents told him again and again. It’s something he’s known about himself for a long, long time.

If he confused affection with love then—that’s nobody’s fault but his own.

“Is that how you really feel?”

Buck gives her a wry smile. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

Dr. Copeland inclined her head. “A fair point. Though sometimes we say things we think we feel.”

“I had sex with more people than I like to think about,” Buck says, wincing. “Why else would I do it?”

“Some people just like sex.” Dr. Copeland never looks anything but 100% engaged. Buck settles the tablet on the bed, rubs his hands over his knees. “Evan?”

“I don’t know that I do,” he says quickly. When he thinks she might get the wrong idea, he follows it up with, “I mean I do. Just not—enough to have it with that many people.”

Dr. Copeland doesn’t judge him and Buck feels like he can breathe.

Buck has a standing date with Maddie every Thursday. Even now, with the pandemic raging around them, they make sure to Zoom and watch something on Netflix. He’s got beer, her, a mug of something she assures him is only tea. “Can I ask you something?”

Maddie looks up, cradling the mug in her hands. “You wanna pause?”

Buck shakes his head. The sound of the movie drowns out whatever’s running through his head. “If I wanted to go to therapy, would you judge me?”

“No,” Maddie says without hesitation. “Why?”

The words get stuck in Buck’s throat. He shrugs to cover the struggle.

“Buck, I love you. If you need therapy, I will support you.”

Buck clenches his hand around the beer bottle tightly. “The crush that Chim keeps teasing about—”

“You want me to stop him?” Maddie looks so concerned that the rush of warmth Buck feels in his stomach makes it easier to speak.

“Maybe,” he allows. “It’s not what anyone thinks. Please don’t interrupt,” he asks, when she opens her mouth. “I need to say this. It’s not—she’s a therapist.”

There was silence on the other end of the screen. Maddie’s not angry when he looks, but he’s startled to see tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she says, hand over her mouth. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck stresses. “I just needed you to know.”

“And I’m proud of you,” Maddie finally manages to get out. She drops her hand, wiping at her eyes. “I’m happy you’re getting what you need, Buck. She is helping?”

Buck thinks of how wrecked he feels after a session, how he’ll surround himself with whoever’s in the apartment because he needs the noise. There’s also the sense of comfort that comes from someone hearing him and listening, giving him advice he actually thinks he can follow.

“Yeah,” he says, after a long pause. “She is.”

“I want to tell Eddie,” Buck says, looking Dr. Copeland in the eye. “But I’m worried about what he’ll say.”

Dr. Copeland took a moment to reply. “His response isn’t on you, Buck. We can only control what we do, how we react. It’s Eddie’s choice.”

“Doesn’t stop me worrying,” Buck pointed out. He thought of Eddie’s resistance to Frank, the barrier he puts between himself and therapy, while simultaneously embracing it on Chris’ behalf. “When it’s Chris, he’s all for it. Thinks it does Chris good. When it’s adult,” Buck adds. “If it’s me? I don’t know.”

“What’s the worst way he could react?”

“Tell me I’m weak,” Buck says, but even as he says it, he knows that’s not something Eddie will ever say.

Dr. Copeland nodded. “Has he ever given you that impression?”

“No.” Buck bites at his bottom lip. “He’s told me the opposite.”

As if sparing him from talking about it more, Dr. Copeland leans a little further forward. “Your other workmates—Hen and Chim?—how do you think they’d react?”

Buck doesn’t know. “Chim’s been teasing me. Thinks every time I’m up here, I’m talking to a crush.” He flushes, tries not to look at Dr. Copeland. “Every time I try and tell him who I’m actually calling, something stops me. I know they don’t think it’s a bad thing. We’ve all had to have it at some point. The job is hard, you know?”

There’s silence from the other end of the screen and it makes Buck’s screen crawl. The silences always make him desperate to fill them, to throw words at her and hope she makes some sense of what he’s trying to say.

“Hen?”

It’s hard not to smile. “She’s always been supportive. Always tried to be there for me. Even after I sued the department.”

“She didn’t hold it against you.”

“No,” Buck agrees. “Not like Bobby. Like Eddie.”

“Bobby,” Dr. Copeland says, ignoring Eddie, something Buck’s grateful for. “Your Captain?”

Buck nods, readjusting his position on the bed. “I keep thinking I should have told him. This is something the department should know.”

“Only if you want them to,” Dr. Copeland reminds him. “Sometimes we don’t feel safe enough to talk about our mental health, especially if it’s outside of mandated sessions.”

It doesn’t stop the guilt striking Buck at the worst times.

“Can I speak to you?”

Bobby looks up from his desk, surprised. “Buck. Of course.”

Buck feels awkward. He’s only ever really in the office when he’s done something wrong. Taking the seat opposite Bobby, he looks up from under his eyelashes, still nervous. “What happens if someone has therapy that isn’t mandated?”

Staring at him, Bobby rests his elbows on the desk. He’s not a stupid man and Buck doesn’t doubt he already knows what Buck’s trying to say. “The department likes to know,” Bobby says easily, “but it’s not their right to know. You understand?”

“Yeah,” Buck breathes. His skin feels too tight, trapped in the four walls of the office.

“Look at me,” Bobby says gently. Buck does, realises Bobby looks concerned and not angry. “You alright?”

Buck shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think—I needed to talk to someone who wasn’t tied to the department.”

Sliding his chair out from the desk, Bobby stood, coming round to stand next to Buck. He hesitates. “You don’t have to explain.”

“After the lawsuit,” Buck starts, tries to ignore the flow of emotions that cross Bobby’s face. “I wasn’t sure whether you’d hate me for—”

“Stop,” Bobby says quietly. He rests a hand on Buck’s arm and Buck starts, standing so quickly the chair skids away from him. Bobby takes his hand away. ”Sorry.”

Buck opens his mouth, closes it. He doesn’t know what his emotions are doing and tries to grasp a hold of one of them. “No I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.”

“Buck.” Bobby reaches out again, and Buck steps into it, feeling awkward when Bobby doesn’t automatically hug him. Oh god. He moves to step away, but Bobby surprises him again, drags him into a hug, hand to the back of his neck. “It’s okay, kid.”

“It’s not,” Buck mutters, bites back the tears but takes the embrace as long as Bobby will let him have it. “But I’m trying to be.”

Buck’s leg won’t stop moving. He’s been staring at his phone for the last fifteen minutes, waiting for Dr. Copeland to reply. What if she can’t speak to him? Maybe he’ll have to get through this on his own and he’s not sure he knows how to do that without her guidance.

_Mom and dad are coming._

Just like that. No warning. No asking if it’s okay. Just. We’re coming.

Buck’s mad and afraid all at once. Maddie’s the same, but she’s got Chim. Buck’s just got this; his apartment, Albert downstairs watching TV, and Eddie on shift. Buck can’t just call.

When the text comes through, Buck scrambles for his tablet, hands shaking as he answers the call.

“You sounded panicked, Evan,” Dr. Copeland says. “Is everything okay.”

“My parents are coming,” Buck blurts out, wincing.

They haven’t talked about them yet; Buck knows she’s inferred some stuff, suspected others, but Buck’s never outright talked about them. “That scares you?”

“Yes,” Buck says, laughing nervously. “Angry. They never ask. Just told Maddie they’re coming. She’s pregnant so of course they wanna fix their mistakes and—”

He talks and talks.

And talks.

“I don’t want them to come.”

Dr. Copeland nods. “You don’t have to see them if you don’t want to.”

“I can’t leave Maddie alone,” Buck protests. “Maybe,” he starts, pauses. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“You have support, Evan,” Dr. Copeland says, and it doesn’t feel like she’s patronising him. “You have friends, co-workers. Any of them would understand.”

Buck doesn’t think so. “They’re not bad parents,” he says.

Dr. Copeland pauses for a moment. “There are different ways to be bad parents.”

Buck’s working out, pent up aggression flowing from fists to punch bag.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you so worked up?”

It’s not that he’s avoiding Eddie. It’s just hard, sometimes, to know he’s holding something of himself back from Eddie. “My parents are coming.”

Eddie stays silent as he punches through some more of his emotions. “My parents tried to take Chris.”

Buck pauses, drops his arms. “What?”

Staring at the ground, frowning, Eddie looks as if he’s far away, probably wherever, or whenever, this happened. “Thought I was dragging him down with me.”

“That’s bullshit,” Buck says immediately, suddenly angry on Eddie’s behalf. Eddie looks up, surprised but pleased, trying to cover it. “It is, Eddie, you know that, right?”

“I didn't,” Eddie admits. “Not for a long time.”

Buck presses, “but you do now?” He doesn’t know why it’s important that Eddie knows it.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, with a certainty Buck doesn’t always expect from him. “Until I came here.”

“Good.” Buck doesn’t know what Eddie’s trying to get at. “Why tell me that now?”

“I’m a good father because I taught myself to be,” he says, and Buck doesn’t understand. “Sometimes our parents don’t do a good job. Sometimes we love our parents, or we don’t. But we don’t have to agree with everything they do, either.”

Buck works off the gloves. “Okay.”

Stepping into his space, Eddie wraps a hand around the back of Buck’s neck and squeezes. “You can tell them to fuck off.”

Buck laughs, grateful, and drops his head forehead, touching Eddie’s. Eddie closes his eyes and Buck does the same, revels in the touch. “I haven’t seen them in so long. I’m a disappointment.”

“Not to me,” Eddie says, voice full of emotion.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck says.

“I think I’m going to go to dinner,” Buck says. Dr. Copeland doesn’t say anything, so he nods, as if to make a point. “Maddie needs me.”

It’s a disaster.

Buck knows, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, that it won’t go any other way.

“So,” Phillip says. Buck doesn’t know when he stopped referring to his parents as mom and dad. Sometimes he feels like he’s a separate entity, apart from all family. Except Maddie. Maddie’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a mother, a sister, a role model. Until she— “how’s working with Evan, Howard?”

“Fine,” Chim says, frowning. “He’s good at his job.”

“He should be,” Phillip says, raising his eyebrows. “We didn’t raise him to slack off.”

“You didn’t raise me at all,” Buck says, the words tripping off his tongue. He sits a little straighter, anger blossoming through his chest.

“Don’t be disrespectful,” Margaret says, narrowing her eyes. “You will speak to your father properly.”

Buck’s courage seems to dissipate.

“Dad, Mom,” Maddie says, pleading. “Buck’s doing the best he can. He’s even going to therapy!”

Instantly, she knows she’s said something wrong, and Buck shifts in his heat, panic overriding the anger.

“You’re in therapy?” Phillip’s tone drips with condescension.

“The job can be hard,” Buck admits, unable to look anywhere else but at Phillip. “I just needed to talk to someone.”

Phillip looks disappointed. As if he’s ever looked anything but. “Weakness has always been your problem.”

“Hey,” Chim starts, stepping forward.

“No,” Buck says, putting his glass on the table. “Say what you need to, Phillip. Why is therapy such a weak thing?”

“No Buckley—”

“What would you know about it?” Buck snaps. “Do you know how long it’s taken to admit to anyone that I’m in therapy? Because of what you drilled into me! You’re gonna stand there and tell me there’s something wrong with it?”

“Yes,” Phillip says, tone hard. “I thought we were done with this attitude.”

“Dad,” Maddie starts.

“No,” Buck snarls. “Let him talk, Maddie. Can’t wait to see how I fucked up this time.”

“Evan!”

“It’s Buck,” Buck yells. Now he remembers why nobody calls him Evan. “Nothing I did was ever good enough!”

“And it never will be,” Phillip snaps in response.

Buck draws himself up. “Maybe if you didn’t always _leave_ —”

“Why would we stay?” Margaret says, her words gentle, and they hit all the harder for it.

Deflating, Buck doesn’t think he can breathe. It feels like a physical slap and he moves, walking fast away from his parents, away from a past he can’t work his way out of.

“It was a disaster,” Buck says later.

Dr. Copeland nods, sympathetic but professional. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Buck does.

“I called Eddie,” Maddie says, coming to sit next to him on the back steps.

Buck wants to be mad about it, but now that the anger’s dissipated, he’s just tired. Shaking. Shaking because he’s so tired.

“I messed it up,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Maddie leans against him, wraps an arm around his shoulder and kisses his temple. “I should be apologising to you. I’m sorry I left.”

There’s a burning behind Buck’s eyes and he drops his head, clenching his hands into fists. “I always get left behind, Mads. Always.”

“I know,” Maddie whispers, and Buck loves her all the more that she doesn’t try to correct him.

When Eddie arrives, he looks pissed. He takes one look at Buck’s parents and the anger morphs into something else. A quiet fury. Buck worries that everything’s going to fall apart, but Eddie reins it in—and god, Buck loves him so much—and ignores them. His eyes land on Buck. The fury’s still there, simmering, but it fades behind concern as he crosses the distance between them, crouching down. “Buck.”

It’s just his name, but Buck sobs, emotionally wrung out.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Buck. Buck falls, let’s himself give up on being anything but a mess. “I’ve got you,” Eddie says again, and Buck believes him.

“Evan,” Phillip says. “This is nothing to cry over.”

“Stop it,” Maddie protests.

Buck ignores them, blinks at the expression on Eddie’s face.

“Alright?” Eddie asks, voice dipped low.

“Yeah,” Buck starts, but is cut off by his mother.

“If this is what therapy has done—”

“You wanna know something,” Eddie snaps, climbing to his feet. Buck’s chest is tight with worry, but Eddie stays close to Buck, between him and his parents. “You wanna know why Buck needs therapy? Where the hell have you been?”

Phillip frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your son,” Eddie snarls, “was almost killed. Twice. A fucking truck crushed his leg, something you couldn’t have avoided knowing about, and yet nothing. Not a word.”

Buck’s oddly fascinated with the way Eddie’s holding himself. Hands clenched, back straight, ever the soldier. But his tone? It goes soft. “Buck’s the best man I know. And no,” Eddie continues, giving Buck’s parents such a look of contempt, “that’s got nothing to do with you.”

There’s that familiar look on Phillip’s face: anger, disgust. “You don’t get to tell me—”

“I’m a father,” Eddie says. “I have an eight year old son. Buck saved his life.”

“Yes,” Margaret says. “We heard.”

That sets Eddie off again and Buck knows he should step in, should take this out of Maddie’s house, but he can’t seem to make himself move. “You have a problem with Buck?”

“He hasn’t turned out—”

“Finish that,” Eddie says, his voice a deadly tone. “Please.”

Phillip keeps quiet.

“Buck’s a credit. Not to you, but to himself. He turned out like this on his own merit. Despite you. Despite being abandoned time and again. He’s strong, kind, compassionate, and I have no idea where he learned to be, because it certainly wasn’t from you!”

Buck’s heart is pounding, blood rushing in his ears. He wants to say something, but he doesn’t know how.

“He deserves better,” Eddie says, “than anything you can give him now, because you’ve decided a grandchild gives you a second chance.”

Turning his back on Buck’s parents, and just the dismissiveness in that rears the old fear, but Buck tamps it down and Eddie gives Buck a look. “You wanna leave?”

“Evan—” Margaret starts.

Maddie nods her head. He gives her a tight smile.

“Yeah,” Buck says, taking the hand Eddie offers him and standing on wobbly legs.

“It’s alright,” Eddie mumbles. “You’ve got this.”

Buck does. He nods, sharing a long look with Eddie, and then swallows down everything to stand straight. “Sorry, Mads.”

“Don’t be,” Maddie says.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Evan.” Phillip’s expression is tight.

“No,” Buck says, digging deep to find courage. Eddie’s hand squeezes his arm. “I’ll be with Eddie and Chris. I’ll call you. Maybe.”

“You can’t—”

“He can,” Eddie says.

“He can,” Chim echoes.

“We will not—”

“It’s alright,” Maddie says eventually. “They’ll be leaving after you.”

Margaret looks shocked. “Madeline—”

“It’s Maddie,” Maddie says. “Eddie’s right. You can’t make up for us,” she says, gesturing between her and Buck, “with my baby.”

“How did that feel?”

Buck huffed, not sure how to answer. “Good? But also terrifying. It’s like closing that door completely. It means we’re cut off. Money, name, everything.”

Dr. Copeland hums. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” Buck says. “Some of the money they can’t touch. The name—it’s nice to have it, but I can always change it. I’m still me.”

“I’m proud of you for going,” Dr. Copeland says. “It took strength, Buck.”

“I, uh,” Buck starts, looking around the room, “told Eddie.”

“Oh?” The fact that he can’t detect anything from her tone is a credit. “How did that go?”

Buck sighs. “My mom actually said it, during the fight. I thought he’d hate me for it.”

“Evan—”

The name doesn’t hurt like it had when Phillip used it. “No, it’s okay. I know—I projected that onto him because I was worried. I didn’t want to lose him.”

Dr. Copeland waits. Then, “How do you feel now?”

_Scared._

“I’m sorry,” Buck blurts out.

Eddie frowns as he shuts off the truck. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t tell you,” Buck says.

A pause. Eddie looks confused. “You did.”

“Not about my parents.” Buck’s quiet, looks at the house. Chris is inside with Eddie’s abuela. During the height of the pandemic, they’d been together, both vulnerable. When it was safe to go home, Eddie's taken him back to the house, but abuela and pepa both are both taking enough precautions to stay with him when Eddie’s at work. It’s worked for them so far and Buck hopes it stays that way; Chris deserves to be safe. “About therapy.”

When Eddie’s hand lands on his knee, Buck jumps. Before Eddie can take it away, he grasps it. Eddie gives him a soft smile when he looks up. “You don’t have to be sorry. If it’s something I needed to know, you’d have told me.”

Buck lets out a shaky breath, tips his back against the headrest. “I’m messed up.”

“Maybe,” Eddie allows. “Isn’t everyone, a little?”

“I keep getting left behind,” Buck admits, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “My parents. Maddie. Everyone at work. You,” he adds on last, because if he doesn’t get this out, he doesn’t know when he will. “Not now—after Bobby said I couldn’t come back to work. You left me.”

Eddie opens his mouth. It closes quickly and Eddie ducks his head, a flush rising on his cheeks. “I was a shitty best friend,” Eddie admits.

“We both were,” Buck allows.

“You were crushed by a firetruck,” Eddie protests.

Buck raises his eyebrows. “Your wife died, Eddie. We didn’t talk to each other. I needed you but I didn’t ask.”

Eddie nods, turns his hand around so he can link their fingers together. Buck’s heart skips, doesn’t know what to make of it. Is this something they do now? The lines between them have always blurred, but he doesn't know— “I’ve never had a best friend before.”

“Neither have I.”

“I didn’t know how to ask for help,” Eddie continues, “because I’ve never had someone to ask.”

Buck’s throat is dry. “I make everyone think I’m okay, but inside I’m not. I hide how I’m really feeling.”

“I’m angry all the time,” Eddie admits. “Not so much anymore, but sometimes. It gets so much and I don’t know how to let it go.”

Buck nods, works through what he wants to say before he speaks. “Then maybe tell me when you are. I don’t know what I’ll do, but tell me.”

With a slow breath, Eddie agrees. “And if you need to tell someone how you really feel, text me or call, or I guess, talk to your therapist.”

Buck makes an assenting noise.

“How do you feel now?” Eddie asks, and Buck realises he’s talking about his parents, the events after dinner.

“Terrified,” Buck says quietly. “Just Maddie and I.”

“And Chim,” Eddie points out. “Bobby, Athena, Hen. Carla.”

Buck nods, the tension drawing out. “I guess.”

Eddie looks at him, expression saying a hundred different things. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Maybe not,” Buck concedes, “But sometimes I need to hear it.”

“You always have me,” Eddie says. His voice isn’t loud or hard. The words feel too big for the space. “I’m not leaving you, Buck, especially not now.”

Buck nods, closing his eyes.

Buck sits back on the couch. “I feel—like I have something to look forward to.”

“I’m pleased.” Dr. Copeland gives him a smile. “How does it feel that everyone knows?”

“Good,” Buck says, thinking it through. “I still hesitate to talk about it, but when I do, they just—accept it. Accept me.”

Silence draws between them, but for once, Buck’s not scrambling for something to say. He feels lighter in places. There’s no magical fix, no cure for the fear and worry that still gnaws at him, sometimes.

“Being honest isn’t always as scary as I thought it was.”

“No,” Dr. Copeland agrees.

Buck looks up, to where Eddie and Chris are in the kitchen, the first time they’ve been able to in so long that Buck’s still surprised at the changes in Chris. “I think I could stand to be more honest.”

“And that,” Dr. Copeland says, “Is something we should talk about next session.”

“Not if I tell him first,” Buck says, with a grin.

Dr. Copeland laughs. “I’ll see you next week, Evan.”

“Bye,” Buck says, waiting until she’s gone to put his tablet down.

“Okay?” Eddie says, leaning against the door jamb.

Buck smiles, pushing himself up off the couch. “Yeah. I think I am.”

“Good,” Eddie says, shoving Buck towards the kitchen. “I burnt shit, fix it.”

Buck laughs, dragging Eddie along with him, holding on like a lifeline.

Eddie takes a hold of his hand and doesn’t let go.

**Author's Note:**

> join me on [tumbr](http://thisissirius.tumblr.com).


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